The New York Herald Newspaper, August 24, 1874, Page 4

The Latest Batch of French | Novels. “LA CONQUETE DE PLASSANS | “Dernieres Nouvelles,” “Mme. Eu- | genio,” “Helene et Mathilde.” THE HISTORY OF SILK CULTURE | ‘_™. Emile Zola, Prosper Merimee, | Plassans, obtains an important benefice and be- | fact to ve oilictally not! Champfleury and Adolphe Belot | | sorted to a3 confessor by the wives of the local | round LES PROMENADES DE PARIS. | Paris, August 7, 1874. Parisian publishers find that the trade in books | is beginning to revive after the hard blow it re- | ceived in the war, and assuredly if the public buy all the new novels advertised booksellers have no right to complain. One seldom at any period saw such a snow of fresh-born novels as that now flaunting in its rows of red, gray and yellow bind- ings, and Nourishing its catchpenny titles, in the | shop fronts of Boulevard libraries. Unfortunately, if the bindings of these new books be unexcep- tionable and their titles attractive, as much can- not be said for the contents, the which have sunk to @ curiously low standard of inelegance and immorality. But of the mass of novel publications lately issued for the delight of holiday tourists there are only five which I can recommend to the attention of American readers, and of these one | is recomméndable rather from the noise it has NEW YORK HERALD, MONDAY, AUGUST 24, 1874.—TRIPLE Nourrons, at fret Gtfulty, then regularly, until by and by they enthrone themselves so thoroughly in tueir landlord's apartments that wretched M, Nourron is reduced to tne rank of stranger at his own board, The rebellions of Nourron and bis transformation tnto a bewildered, henpecked nus- band are as finely drawn as the gradual meta- morphoses of bis wive. The first quarrel of the pair takes place on @ Money question. Marth¢ had al- waya been very abstemiousin asking her husband | for money, for she was well aware of bis stunginess; but there comes to Plassans a disreputable sister of the Abbé Faujas and her husband, and this pair, | divining Marthé’s affection for the priest, work upon it to swindie her out of large sums of money. It ts to pay an alleged debt of Faujas’ sister that | Marthé first asks her Husband point biank fora sum which makes him stand aghast, He rejuses, but then ensues a stormy scene, at the end of which Nourron ig vanquished, and definitely ab- dicates the mastery under his own roof, From this time events move apace. The Abbé Faujas, by cleverly circumventing the Bishop of comes @ leading character in the town, Assisted by Marthé he ‘ounds some useful charities, is re- magnates, and plays his cards 60 well in | the interests of the government which has oc- cultly favored him that he gets a Bonapartist returned at the elections instead of the former oppositionist. These triumphs strengthen his po- sition in the Nourron household; and his sister, whom he hates, but fears, because she knows the secret of his past life, profits by is rising fortunes to carry on her depredations on @ grander scale than ever. Marthé% children are successively | Sent out of the house. One goes to be @ clerk in & bank; another is driven into a state of tanatical exaltatien and enters a seminary to take holy or- ders; the little nalf-witted girl, who had always been the pet of her parents, is despatched to live with @ nurse; and these changes 80 prey upon | Nourron that he falls into melancholy and solitary moonings. This gives the Faujas family a pretext for declaring that he is mad, and, as they have been seized by this time with the ambition of get- | ting hold of all the wretched man’s property, they contrive to get him put into an asylum, where he very suortly becomes mad for good. But Marthé ts rapidly growing insane too, Her | | love for Faujas finds no response in the bosom of | | the priest, who is too astute a man to imperil his | career anew by furnishing occasion for scandal, | and the result of this is that Martné, thinking her- | self despised, lapses into hysteria and thence into | consumption. Feeling herend approaching, she made than because it possesses any merits. I will weat of it last. To take the best book first, I must mention “LA CONQUETE DB PLASSANS," BY EMILE ZOLA, ‘which is by far the most remarkable novel of the season. It is, indeed, a8 regards style and power | thing jane ' Aor and the present littie Volume 1s as season- apie literature of the seaside, story in the coliection is, ferhane. tue laiest, en- titled “La Sonnet’ Berloquin.” id M. Berioquin, who leads @ retired life in @ provincial town, bas been troubled ior many years by the wysterious circumstance that his door bell is The most amusing gene down reguiarly every Caristmas Eve. Alter | javing endured this ten times he loses patience, and on the eleventh Christmas Eve he and bis housekeeper organize @ formidable watch to ue.ect the offender ; without any hi from that time M. Berloquin grows mourutul under the belie! that the devil is taking an interest | in vis wduirs, His housekeeper encourages tus suspicion by her own terrors, and she (aks of leaving the house, which greatly distresses M. Berioquin, for she has served him faithfully many | Years and Knows all his whims, tastes and foivles. | Alter some discussion, however, the bousekceper hints that she is ready to remain if M. Berloquin wul marry her. She is weil looking and not more thau forty; she ts iso @ prudent hopsewile and | Ol excellent character, M. Berloquin, thuugo, Las | Do tasie lor married life and turns a deaf ear. He | gives the housekeeper to understand that he has put her down for something handsome 1 his will and to prove that he Speaks tue truto causes the led to ber by his lawyer, Whereon she is temporarily appeased sn | continues to «bide with ‘her master tor another twelvemunth, But as Christmas comes again she renews her threats of departure aud her matrimonial hints, and poor M. | Berioquin, who finds bimsel! confined to his arm- cuair by racking rhuematisins, sees that he shail be forced in the end to yiela to ner, Chrismas Eve arrives, however, Without any promise being | given, 80 that night M, Berioquin resolves to make @ last effort to discover, by hitaself, who It 1s that | pulls his beiis down, The beils have always come down punctually at midgut, aud toward that bour M, Berioquin, though eudaring excruciating agonies in his limbs, crawis out of bis room and crouches behind the street door, keeping Lis fingers un the bandie. Midnight strikes, down comes the bell with an unholy clatter, as usual. _M. Berioguin pulls the door open quickly and there discovers— his housekeeper, holding the bell- cham in ber hands. It was she who, for twelve years, had torn down ber master’s bell with pious regularity, th order that by working upon bts super- stilion she might com; her tender en M. Champfleury has lately brought out a ‘History of Caricature from 1789 to 1815." It 18 a sequel te | other mstories of cartcature d niuquity, Lue Middie Ages, &c. It is profusely tlustrated wito cleverly done woodcuts, reproducing Caricatures of the revolutionary and imperial epochs, and tue explanatory ietier press is lively. But tue subject | 18 Loo vast @ one to be disposed of in a litte Vol- | ume of 100 pages, and it ia @ pity that M. Champ- | fleury did not set himself to bring out a great Work of more exhaustive treatment, Caricatures have at all times played # sufficiently stirring part 1m Frencti politics to merit the careiul notice of a historian. ‘“HELENR ET MATHILDE.’ BY ADOLPHE BELOT. The above is the title of M. Belot's new novel, | which has reached its fiftn edition in six weeks | and is Making a great deal of noise. It will make et more noise next winter, for it 18 going to be rought out in dramatic jorm, and under this rtaining to the home life of French | contribution a one Could Wish to the light | bat the bell is pulled down as usual | Ving Jorm being seen to touch it, and | of execution, perhaps the most striking novel | ‘written since Baique’s death, though the story it embodies is unpleasant. M. Emile Zola is @ radi- | cal, and in noticing another of his works—‘‘Le | Ventre de Paris” —last winter I had occasion to | point out his two chie! characteristics as @ ‘writer—namely, his deep sympathy ior all forms Of democracy and revolution, and his addiction to @ mode of word-painting so minute and realistic sto resemble in literature the per‘ormances of M.Courbet on the canvas. M. Zola has undertaken | to write the “History of the Rougon-Macquarts” | (@ middie class family) through all the phases | ef the Second Empire. and the present novel is | Dut one of a series which works out this “history.’” | It ts, however, like the four which have preceded it, 8 tale complete in itself. 1t deals with the i n- uence which can be exercised by @ Roman | Catholic priest over the concerns of private life, and the point of view is necessarily hostile—nay, | hateful, | When the story opens the family of M. Nourron, consisting of Nourron himself, his wife Marthé, ‘Swo boys, a little girl of weak intellect and an ola servant woman named Rose, are awaiting with | °l#mbers over the garden palings and begins @ | considerable curiosity the arrival of a priest who | | ts stricken with remorse for her conduct toward her husband and sets out to visit him in his mad- house with the intention of liperating him if she discovers him, however, to be quite lunatic, and ao returns broken hearted to her mother’s house in Plassans, where she swoons on the floor in high | fever, But while she is being put to bed a horribie | tragedy is being enacted in her own house—thas where the Faujas were reigning, and to which she had not dared to return. The priest, tn his ascent to honors and power, had made bimself numerous enemies and among them one particularly unscrupuious in the person of the Abbé Phéline, whom he haa supplanted in the vishop’s good graces. This Phéline is cog- nizant of the state of things in Nourron’s house- hold, and has been told that Nourron in hia attacks of frenzy proffers horrible menaces against Faqjas, He bribes one of the keepers in the asylum to let | Nourron escape, and the iunatic 1s accordingly let | out in the dead of night. He runs off to his house, knocks at the door, but, not being answered, bewildered investigation of his premises. He guise will no doubt succeed, for the plot | is based on a very teiliug “situation.” But as movel it is contemptivie, DM. a i | Belot got hold o/ a capital idea, but he has not had | the patience or industry to work it out, He has | should find him in possession of his senses. she | produced a scamped volume that might have been dashed off in a fortnight, all the incidents being biurred and ail the mterest spolied oy the vioient hurry, One cannot heip wishing that the suoject had ‘been treated by suchapen as M, Octave Feuillet’s or M. Zola’s. Hélene is the wife of an American merchant, | Settled and naturalized in France. M. d'Auvray is described as an honest, weil-meaning ian, but too much absorbed in business to look alter bis wife, and the consequence is that she takes care of herself by forming an illicit attachment with | One Marce) Bertnier, a young painter. The liaison | between them lasts two or three years, and by the end of that time M. d’Auvray, the merchant, beginning to perceive that Marcel’s visita to his | house are pretty frequent, concludes that the latter is tn love With Mathilde, uis daughter. He accord- ingiy surprises Marcel by telling bim point biank one day that be bas found out his secret, ‘‘but,’? adds he, “I have been watching my daughter, ana know that she requites your affection. You area rising young man of talent, and my daughter's happiness is all I iook to. I see no objection to the match, and you shall marry her.” Marcel is thunderstruck by this unexpected communica- tion, but he has not presence of mind enough to deny being in love with Matnilde, were to do 80, how accoant for bis (requent visits to the house without turning M. d’Auvray’s suspi- has hired the second floor of Nourron’s residence. | {408 everything chauged—trom tie gardens to | cions toward Héleue? In his perplexity he bows Marthé bad opposed the letting of these rooms, | Rot wishing to see her quiet home intruded upon by @ Stranger; but Nourron, a retired tradesman, whose shrewd, huckstering nature is admirably Portrayed, insists that to keep a whole floor vacant | ts a folly. “Besides which,” adds he, “priests make | mo noise in a house.” Accordingly the new | lodger arrives, and from his coming date ® succession of changes, emotione and troubles which culminate in @ horrible tragedy. His name is Fanjas, and he left his frst house | {fo With big armfuis of (uel, which he heaps up tn | under mysterious circumstances not disclosed in the book, bat which are supposed to reflect dis- ereditably on his moraisor nis honesty. He is @ tall, nervous and muscular man, about forty years of age, handsome, and with the signs of genius on Dis high forehead and arching eyebrows, but sor- | idly poor, and looking like one who shuns society. This, however, is only stratagem, for he is so far from shunning society that be has come tnto this little town of Plassans for the sole purpose of con, quering it—that is, of becoming the chief man in 1t and of winning it over, if possible, to the tm- perial cause. We are told that Plassans had ai- Ways returned anti-Bonapartisis to the Legisia- ture, and that the government was much netted in consequence, so that, in despite of his shady antecedents, the Abbé Faujas, being a man of proved capacity, has been privately but warmly | UPD her and brings her to the ground. the furniture of the house, He climbs noiselessly up the staircase, calling in piteous whispers for his wife through the keyholes of the different rooms, but obtains no reply; and looking through the keyhole of the room which was once his wife's and his own, he sees the priest's siater reading tn ved, with his best silver candlesticks on the table beside her. Then he creeps down as furtively ag | ne haa come, goes t6 a penthouse where firewood | \8 stored, and for the next hour journeys to and all the rooms and on all the landings. Then he sets fire to each pile separately, beginning with the ground floor, and, running up from story to | story, scattering the fames every where abeut | nim. The house, fired tn adozen places at once, soor blazes like @ furnace and the escape of any of door of the Abbé, Fanjas and gioats over his | work. It is full ten minutes before the priest is | Smoke has awakened, but when he rushes to the | door he ts blinded by a torrent of Name and smoke, and ewoons. His mother catches him up tn her | arms as tf he were a child and endeavors to force | herself a way out with her burden; but tt 1s then | that Nourron, with a shriek of exultation, springs the inmates 1s impossible. Nourron, with a maniacal | | chuckle, sits down on the staircase opposite the | aroused by the cries of his mother, whom the | The three | his head and soon afierward the marriage takes place. Marcel virtually marties the daughter to Save the honor of her inother. Tne story opens at the end of the honeymoon, when M. d’Auvray and bis wie are waiting for Marce! and Mathilde to return home from their bridai trip. With M. d’Auvray is staying M. Du- vallon, @ painter whose pupi} Marcel Berthier used | to be aud also Virginie Duvalion, the painter's | Wile, Itis these six people who censtitute the | dramatis persone of the book, and the main action | of the drama, m which they all play importans | parts, extends over no more than three days. Mathilde returns and 1s to ali appearances happy; | but on the evening o1 her arrival she contrives to | bave an hour's conversation alone with her father and reveals to him that her husband does not love her. She is not dejected, however, for she teels sure that she shall be able to conquer Marcel’s | fections in time; but for this purpose it 1s neces | Sary that she should at least Know who ig the wo- | Iaap whom her husband secretly loves, and saying ‘this she hints her reasons for suspecting that the woman lives, or, at ali events, is known, at a house in the Rue Taitbout. She has vy accident seen an | envelope directed in her husband’s hand to the | house in guestion, and when sne interrogated | Marcel as to who among his friends lived there he looked contased and returned an evasive answer. | Mauatide now begs her father that he will go to the | Rue Taitbout and institute inquiries, “li I can but kuow and see the woman,” she says, confiden- tially, ‘1 am sure | shail be abie to prevail over her. Itis fighting against an unseen enemy that makes victory difficuit.”” For the sake of his | daughter's Lappiness M, d’Auvray accepts the deli | Cate mission of going to cross-question the porter of | the house in the Rue Taitbout, ana it need scarcely be said that on being properly teed this worthy Yecommended by one of the Emperor’s Ministers | TO!i headlong into the Names together, though the | giscioses all he Knows. But that ail 1s not much, to some of the Bonapartist oMicials of Plassans, who are bidden to look upon him asa valuabie aly. The Abbé, however, fights his way up laboriously by his own talents and also by the help of his mother, a devoted woman of the peasant class, ‘whom he has brought with him, and who misses fo occasion of furthering bis interests, At first Mother and son are so little seen that all tne tongues in the neighborhood are set awag about them, wondering how they spend their time, why ‘they have come, bow they live and for what rea gon the Abbé wears such shaboy cassocks. Worthy | M&. Nourron, who 1s tormented by the itch of curi- esity, goes and peers through their keyhole, sneaks behind the Abbé to spy upon him when he walks out, Makes several attempts to enter into ® conversation with him, and, not succeeding, grows to entertain the worst opinions of hia lodger. But one day @ hazard brings the priest nd his mother to accept an invitation to spend the evening with the Nourrons, and from that time they insensibly return every evening. Old Mme. Faujas plays tuterminable games of piquet | q@ith M, Nourron, The priest and Marthé sit oy the fire and talk, untii gradually tt comes about that Martné feels a fascination for this man. Itneed scarcely be said that this fascination ¢ipens with time toto a woful passion, Marthé ts | described a8 a Woman Of Warm sensibilities and mother, in her desperate struggles to free her son from Nourron’s grasp, has clutched the latter with a grip of death and fastened her teeth in his throat. While tuis pretty scene is being per- formed in her house Marthé is dying in convul- sions under her mother’s root. It will be seen that the story is not an edifying one, and some of the incidents are rendered re- pulsive by the author's very crude realism; but as @ study of provincial life in France and as a de- | lineation of characters tt 1s aimost matchiess, and | if one could wish the author more delicacy in his | choice of subjects one cannot require of nim more vigor and artistic skili im the mode of treating them. “DERNIERES NOUVELLES,’ BY PROSPER MERIMEE ‘That agreeable wit and erudite cynic, M. Pros- per Mérimée, has lefta posthumous volume of * hovelettes which are not quite equal to those which | | he wrote in his earlier days, but which afford attractive reading nevertheless. The most popu- lar in the present volume—though tt i¢ the worst im point of literary execution—is “La Chambre amasement of the Empress Eugénie. The story ts of a young French couple who elope, and in the innroom where they pass the night are aroused by hearing # heavy fall and @ groan in the chamber adjoining theirs, The highly poetical temperament, whose whole life has been nothing but the dullest prose. Married early | to Nourron, she sat bebind the counter of his shop, busied herself with figures anc relievec the cares | of bookkeeping by attending to the druageries of | her household. In these petty duties al the ro | mance of her heart had been smothered. Her hus- young man gets up, and, to bis horror, sees @ pool of blood which has trickied under the door which connects the two apartments. It is evident thata murder has been committed, and the young man, remembering that the next room | ts tenanted by an Engtish fellow traveller, whom he saw dogged oat of the railway station by an {il- favored young man who addressed Such ts the piot of “La Conquéte de Plassans:’’ | Bieue,” which the author wrote specially for the | im aa | | though it throws M. d’Auvray forthwith on @ | wrong scent. The porter has seen a veiled lady | cal! many times at Marcel Bertmer's studio in old | days, but he has never caugnt sight o! her features, | One day, however, as she was getting intoa 4 | to go home he heard ner give her address as No. 1: Rue Z—._ Now this house happens to ve the re | dence of M. Duvalion, the painter, and M. d’A vray 1g much socked, for he jumps +o the obvio1 conclusion that the lady with whom bis son-in-law Was On such warm terms 1s Mine. Duvalion, whe is young and very pretty. As Mme. Duvalion is stay: ‘ung her improper Connection with Marcel con-+ | tinue, now that the latter ts married. Virginie Duvailon, however, ts an innocent and high principied littie body, and evinces as muco asionisiment as indignation when M. d'Auvray sternly taxes her with being his son-in-iaw’s para | mour. After an exciting scene, during whick her protestations do not succeed in shaking M. d’Aa- | vray’s suspicions, sheeuns off in tears to her bus- band, Who is painting in his studio with Marcel, and pours out vefore them both what things she hag been accused of. Duvallon bounds to his ieesin fury and turns upon Marcel, ordering him instantiy to go and assure M, d’Auvray o! Virginie’s innocence, | but to his amazement and anger Marcel hesitates. At last he says with a despairing gesture, “I will go; Dut in exculpating your wile,! shail be put |; ting M. d’Auvray on the track of the real culprit, @nd that culprit.is M. d’Auvray’s own wile.” Now Duvailon, the paiuter, is under deep obliga- tions toM, @’Auvray. Ata time when he was bus ) @ struggling artist the American merchant had | generously given hima handsome yearly allow- ance inorder that he mignt perfect his studies witnout being forced to earn tus bread by burned | aR not forgorcen A Be feeis + Soar uytay a€ toward @ father, and gee | mg tum now Mienaced by & mlsforthne which must vlight his whoie iife he is overwheimed with grief. In bis anger he heaps up violent reproachea oo Marcel, but at the very moment when be bas claimed, “That woman ought to have veen twice sacred to any man who claimed vo ve my friend,’? be stops short, for M. d’Auvray has eutered the studio. “It appears, then, that you know the name Besides, if he | ing 0 his house be determines to have an expla | nation and to warn her categorically against lee | “Cnele,” Daturally concludes that the Englishman of my son-ln-law’s mistress, Duvailon; who ts itr? band was a small, bustling, self-willed man of quick | as been murdered by his nephew. This, howeve: Duvailon warns pale and stammers, but iti9 then temper, liking to give orders and to be obeyed even in little things ; and Marthé had resigned ter. seif to such entire submissiveness toward o1m that she could scarcely be said to have a mind of her own, At Plassans she never stirred out of doors, received few visits, never soaght after amuse- ments, and seemed to have no other object than to keep her Dusband in good humor and look after her children. and yet at the time of the Abbé Faujas’ coming she was not more than thirty-five and bad retained all her beauty. How ander the tnfuence of her love for the Priest Marthé’s nature andergoes a slow but Marked change ts told with a wonderful diagnosis ef the human heart, Marthé had never deen relig- fous nor even 4 believer, conforming her habits in this respect wo those of most middle-class women fm France} but ‘rom the time of her acquaintance- Ghip with Faujas she tries to find @ solace from the Mmner fire which is consuming her by attend tmg church, The Abbé doesnot ask her to Go 60, and, indeed, noting could be less spiritual Shan the discourses of sis priest, whom M. Zola pictares es a man devoured by ambition and using ‘ie sacred profession only as @ means to selfish ends. Faujae ratuer dissuades Marthe trom giv- | §ag Way too Bealousiy to she ecstacy of devotio: Dut she cannot exactly realize of what kind are the gentimenta which at once torture and transport heer, She seeks ail opportunities of drawing near to the priest, of seeing him officiate tn puviic, of taking oounse! of nim in private; and soon she eannot bear that he shouid e ont of her sigh: for rows him into a cruel perplexity. If he and h inamorata remain they will be called upon as wit: | esses at the inquest, in which case their nam willbe made public, and the young iady’s reia- | tives, discovering her whereabouts, wil! start in | pursuit. [f,on the other band, they bolt, how Avold the risk of being suspected of a share in the | murder? In his dilemma the young man re lesser of the two evils—that ts, he makes up is | Mind to fy. Quickly he awakes iis com. | panion. Both dress and creep steatth: down | Stairs, 80 as 10 try pnd jeave the house {n time to catch an eighé o'clock train, which will convey them far away from the ill-omened town, But while shey are being detained at the bar vy the necessary formality of paying their bili | chambermaid fusters down irs and aay: “Some soda water, please, and a sponge, Englishman in No. 9 got dead grunk last pigut 2 iel] down on the Soor, break: rd 4 whole dott port on the carpet.” Hereaf phe two ranaway lovers dreak tntoa sigh of reilef, Jor tne Dorribie mysvery i explained—the red pool was Bot blood, but port wine. The other novelest the above trifle. The first one, “Lokis,” is an ad- mirabiy picturesque, though wragical, story of Lithuanian manners. [¢ tells howa Lithuanian count, poptlarly suspected of “naving bear's blood tn bis veins,” justified thie suspicion b: murdering hie beautiful young bride on her wed- ding night, Ip her throat was found 4 deep gash, and the doctor, after attentively examining said, “fnis Was not done With & Kuile; itis bitel” Prosper Mérimée delighted to make his reader's flesh creep, and he always succeeded; for once # book of hi jaa been opened the reader pd always peruse i$ with fascination from end to end. “MADAME BCGENIO” AND OTHER TALES, BY CHAMP FLEURY. M. Champfleury js w# different style of writer from M. Mérimée}; but he too has the power of fasctnating. Hia tales are very photographs of oven balfa day. It thas comes to pass that Fanjas and his motber begin +0 take theiz meals with the French manners, He can be trusted to bring be- fore the mind’s eye, in the most Vivid colors, AnY- | solves to face what any lover would regard aa the | The | ‘are of greater merit than | that Virginie, who has divinea what is passing 1D | her husband's mind, comes forward aud gobi; sacrifices herself. “it ts 1 who was Marcei’s mi! | tress, M. d'Auvray,” she Says, humbly; "when § denied it to you ab hour ago | told taisehood,” This on the stage would make a very effective acené. And $0 Would the next episode, whem M. d)Auvray seeks out his guilty wile and commu- Dicates to ler that be and toe Duva.ions are to leave the city. “Why?” asks Hélene, astonil Jor she has heard nothing of what nas been on tp the house ail day, d'Auv | then explains to her, but while he ‘3 60 ig struck by the ghastly pit ir which spreads over his wile’s face., Do what ee will she cannot conceai her emotion, and at length ap exclamation that ureake from her causes M. | @’Auvray to pause and stare hard ather, ‘fell me the truth! he gays {n @ hoarse voice; “there ; Is something unnatara: in your conduct. { nelieve Mme. Duvacion was accused herself to save you. IS 1s you who are your daughter's rival? “Yes,” iaiters diene, and she sinks at her hus band's feet, craving for forgiveness. How Mathude is made aware of her mother’s guilt. and how Héiéne, unabie to bear the exposure | Of her shame. steais out of the nouse in the nigut | alia drowns herself in the neighboring river, cam | best be learned in the book itself. The story ends miserabiy; for, a8 it Was Lecessary that the stern- est poetical justice sho} be meted out to the guilty Marcel, the anthor makes him en- list in the French army Guring the Franco-German war, Which éupervenes soon alter these incidents and kills him @t the battie of the Bourget. To the fisting moral ts tncuicated that startling sins such as the above always ineet their paniwshment, But it may be double whecher a feeble nove) Was needed to remind peopie of a fact which had better be taken for meee 4nd! [have here sketched the piot of “Hélene ond Mathiide” it 1s because, as I have already said, the novel has excited macn attention, and therefore comes into the category of oe Which @ newspaper correspondent must notice. “LR COOON DR SOIR," Tt is my duty this month to call speciat attention to a magnificent work eons by J. Roths- child on the silk cocoon, Its author is M. Dusetg- neur-Kiéber, @ gentieman who writes with a very wide knowledge of the subject, and work has already reached a second edition. The book 1s now beautifully printed and bound, and is en- larged with eight new piates as well as mucn ad- ditional printed matter on the logy of vhe It 18, therefore, of the net cocoon. hest interest to everybody engaged in the silk trade, and 1s also of @ statistical value which cannot be overrated. | Indeed, tt is not ng too far to say that every government should put this work into the hands Of ali ite consuls residing in silk-making countries. A monography of the silk cocoon would have been impossible twenty years ago, Even in 1350 the looms oi France, of italy and of Spain were elit ted by races of cocoons which presented er physical resemblance to each other, aud no -one appeared to think !t worth the trouvle of in- quiry for new resources in foreign countries where tt presumed the silk would be inierior. The disease, however, which overtook the silk worms some years ago ereacals destroyed tne old races of cocoons and aroused the enterprise of mer- chants to look jor new ones, The result appears in the sober and laborious work now published by M. Rothschild. 1t is in point of fact a long and pa- tient inquiry, which has put aside every theory bi upon mere presumption in order to arrive at clear and tndisputavle truths. It ts In some sort a history of sericiculture, write ten by itsell, and has done jor the silk cocoon what Cuvier and Buffon did for all nature. There are no pedantic discussions in It, no attempt at fine writing; it reads like @ oareful parliamentary re- port, made by @ special committee well up to its usiness, Thus tt commences by a description of the silk trade in those Countries which @re most advanced in sericiculture, and shows the {mportation of races which took Place during the various phases of the malady of the silkworm. In this part of his book the author follows, step by step, the path of this destroying plague; he shows, however, how all attempts to master tt were long made in vain, and he gives a lamentable catalogue of the races which, one after the other, were extinguished by it. The reader sees defile vefore him ali those types of cocoons known hitherto till he comes to those of Japau, No country is torgotten, and when one has thought over the iunumeraole varieties of tnis great family one ia astounded to see that hardly one of them has remained to ua, This vaiuapie part of M. Duseigneur’s book is illustrated by plates which are reaily master pieces of heliogra- phy, ana which show what may be expected irom aD art which has already passed almost beyond praise. These plates, which are twenty-nine in humoer, are reproduced by a new proceeding, wuich is very little known, under the name of “photoglypty.” It presents all the troth ot en- graving augmented by the delicate couches ot photography. M. Duseignear gives also general Statistics of every \k producing country in the World, and shows the nature and value of its prod- uce. It would be really dificult to express too much admiration and respect for the persistent and enligatened study which has been devoted to this object. In a few pages the author has summed up the resuits of more than twenty years of thought @nd meditation, His examinauon of his supject is 80 judicious and exhaustive that he will hardly need a successor, and the most that future writers upon the cocoon can effect will be to annotate this remarkabie essay. The statistics therein printed are foliowed by two parallel routes indicating the course porsued in 1863°through Siberia by the “grainers” who thought themselves obliged to take this road to bring back seed from Japan. The | details of their journey, for the first time pubd- lished, are extremely curious and merit attention. itis accompanied by @ map of P ipod accuracy. | This great book, which M. Rothschila y Apr eens to the world, will not be generally sold by the trade; only a very few copica have been printed beyond those destined for subscribers, and a special order will thereiore be necessary to obtain it, Its publication appears to have been in no sense @ commercial speculation, but rather the spirited and high-minded enterprise of a great publisher giving the aid of bis name and experi- ence to & great author without any desire for mere profit. in calitng attention, theretore, to M. Rothschild’s praiseworthy undertaking I am _per- forming a pubic duty of the gravest character. “LES PROMENADES DE PARIS." PAR A. ALPHAND, DIRECTEUR DES TRAVAUX DB LA VILLB DE PARIS. TWO VOLS., IN FOLIO. | | | Rothschild, It contains five hundred pages of beautifully printed text, illustrated by eighty en- gravings on steel, twenty-tnree chromo-litnoe graphs, and 487 engravings upon wood. Its ordi- nary price 1s $100 at the booksellers, but copies printed on Dutch paper are charged $200. It is very long since any Dook nificent has been offered to the public, and it was composed, I understand, a8 @ present to the Shan of Persia. Independently of its literary merit ‘Les Prome- nades de Paris’ is certainly the finest exaimpies ol topography which hi Sppearce for mapy years, and its podiication t M. Rothscuia No less than 700,000 francs, or $140,000, It is indeed a hational work of the highest kind ate tbe yp + lasting value. The copy presented tothe Stial 3 Persia Was gorgeously bound in black and gold, with sees of the city of Parts in relief; on it was inécr' in crimson’ ana gold, “Homage of the City of Paris to His Imperial Ma- Jesty the Shah of Persia.” With respect to the contents of this astonishing book tt begins by an excellent monograph on the artof gardening trom the most remote antiquity to the present day. The autuor, who seems Oj a very wise and gentle spirit, reviews the gardens of Asia, of Greece, of China; those of the Komans, those of the Italians of the Middle Ages and those of the period of the Renaissance, One not only reads Oi these abodes of beauty and delight, but one sees in the beautitul engravings which ilu: trate the scholarly text all the ceieorated gard of the world, from those of Pekin to those of Ve sailles, of Malmaison and the Tuileries, with the loveliest of England, Germany and Italy. This in- troduction to M. Aiphand’s book 1s as curious as it | ts instructive, and it ig admirably written by a true lover of nature apd opsuminate artist. er nee charmed and wonder-stricken. engraving o! the Bois de Boulogne, with a view of the lake, by Lanceiot, most exquisite and truthful. There is another,of the Briage of the Isles, Weber, aiso upon wood, very charming. There Is the Kiosk of the Emoveror, an engraving on steel by Suipis, remarkabie from tts carefui observ. ance of the laws of perspective. Further on the Bois de Vincennes, where I find an en- graving upon wood almost as good as wood Eon ibuer 3 can be. The Parc de Monceaux and tne Grande avenue are treated, one by Morin g fidelity and artistic effects. The Butts Chaumont ie the subject of # superb engraving pon steel; the Palace of the Luxembourg 1s equaliy weli ren- dered by Benoit, anc the Fountain of the Medicis, by Grandsire, is among the masterpieces of that | famous artist. When I come to the Gar- den of Acchmatization | find the flora rendered With as much taste as botanical learning, and bere the magic of colors 1s added bo the fidelity of the drawings, mé, one by one, the queens of the garden, and we are told that ‘Solomon in al! his glory was not ar- rayed tke one of these.” Notuing, indeed, is ne. giected or forgotten in “Les Promenades de Paris | everything i$ given to the view and lucidiy ex- piaitied, trom the parks, noteis and monuinenis so the arches abd sudterranean passages of the great city. M. Alphand’s work is ine more precious because the Communists burned dowa or destroyed many of the architectural beauties of Paris which are bere preserved, and 1 1s as well that! shouid note, for the information of collectors, that very jew of the books now under review re- main on M. Rothschild’s hands. anc that no new edition 1s likely vo be issued because many o1 the blocks and other materials {rom which ings were made were wantonly destroyed during the latest revoiution in Paris. No such literary enterprise as undertaken during the present century, and ! may fearlessly Say that the books, whick have been prepared with so much care and genins and at Such aD enormous cost, wil! have a permanent Interest as @ memortai for all travellers who have visited Paris, as well as for the proprietors of landed estates who desire to beautify their grounds, and still mo’ ecially for the adminis- tration of every cit; ulch contemplates the ornamentation and improvement of Places and thoroughiares. LITERARY CHIT-CHAT. poo eT Ee THRER EDITIONS Of Farrar’s “Life of Christ” have been sold in London, and the fourth 18 in press, A NEW SCHOOL JOURNAL {8 to be established in Maryland, with a view to supply the need never yet filled in that State of an intelligent and com- prehensive @iG and venicie of intelligence for teachers, PRoressor fl, W. LONGFELLOW (s not writing a biography of Charles Sumner, A paren petorep to free trade and arbitration in place of war is to be starved in Paris, plete in London for twopence, with portrait of Bunyan and three fllustrations, The force of cheapness could no further go. BASTIAT’S GREAF WORK, “Sophisms of Protec. tion,’’ will be published in cheap form by the Put- nams. RopeRTSs BROTHERS AND HENRY HOLT & Co. prom- ge 600 aD American edition of that most remark. able book, ‘Supernatural Kellgion; an Inquiry Into the Reality of Divine Revelation.” HARPes & BROTHERS and J. K. Osgood & Co. both announce reprints of ‘The Valleys of Tirol, their Traditions and Customs, and How to Visit Them.” ‘THE LVR OF Mug. 1Ussacp,” who piayed a nota- bie part during the French Revolution, ana at a later period founded the show known as Tussaud’s Wax Works in London, i* to be written by Mr, RB, Daney. Roserts BRorHERS will reprint Bates’ “Nato. Talist on the River Amazon.” Hamerton’s “Evcn- ing and Etchers,” Madame feconner’s corre- spondence, end Walter Besant’s “French Humorists.” THB INSEHAUSTIBLD W. HARRISON AINSWORTH bas begun @ mew romance in the magazine en. | Wued “Bow Bella.” This is another superb work published by M, | extraordinarily mag- | I turn over the grand volumes before me quite | There 13 @ wood | id the otner by Grandsire, with astonishing | It ts chromo-lithography which shows | the engrav. | this has been | its public | rather ghetoricai ‘ “PILGRIM’S PROGRESS can now be had com- | SHEET. LONDON GOSSIP. Reyiew of the Last Days of the Session of Parliament. Will England Accept the Cannibal Islands P AMERICAN FIELD SPORTS. The Lord Chamberlain and the Ballet Girls. Lonpos, August 5, 1874. ‘The Ministerial whitebait dinner at Greenwich, @n tnstituuion which has failen into desuetude for some years, has been reyived by the conservatives and is to take place to-day, This betokens the end of the session of Parliament. In its later days, and under the sweltering heat of a July sua (though, by the way, the House of Commons is said vo be the best ventilated and the coolest build- ing in England), Parliament has done far more and better work than at its first coming togetner in the spring. Within the last few days the bill giving an annuity of £15,000 to Prince Leopold has passed through both Houses with only one dissen- tient voice (that of Mr. Peter Taylor, the member for Leicester,) in the Commons, and of course none in the Loras. The bill giving to the Charity Commissioners the functions hitherto discharged by the Endowed Schools Commission, whose powers will cease at the expiration of the present year, has been also passed through committee, notwithstanding some active opposition. The Public Worship | Regulation bill was carried through {ts third read- ing in the Commons on Monday night. Lord Penzance has been appointed by the archbishops as the judge under this oill, though, as Mr. Disraeli | explained, His Lordship was not the anonymous person whom the Premier, in a recent speech, an- nounced Ms intention of recommending to the office. Itis thought that Mr. Disraeli alluded to Lord Chief Justice Erle.. Mr. Gladstone announced | that he did not share in the general juvilation as regards this bill; but he had not strenuously op- Posed it, as he thought there was a case for legis+ lation. It may be noted that Mr. Gladstone looks haggard and worn, and that his conduct during the session has not been such as to restore the | much diminished confidence’ot nis followers. In | the House of Lords last night two of the amena- ments made by the Commons to che Public Wor- i ship Regulation bill were negatived, but there ts ; little doubt of the bill becoming law before Parlia- | ment adjourns, FIJI ANNEXATION. | Mr, McArthur, member of Parliament for Lam- beth, by religion a Baptist, by profession an alder- | man, is very anxious forthe annexation of the ! Fiji Isiands by England; but last mgnt’s debate showed him that such an idea is not palatabie to the house—at least on the terms proposed by the cannibal islanders. In lieu of nis motion an amendment was moved by Sir Cnarles Dilke to the effect that great caution should be used in the | subject of aunexation, and although this amend- | Ment was negatived tt ts virtually what the gov- ernment wilido. Mr. Gladstone, who, alter what was for him & prolonged silence, has been faring up like an expiring candle, criticised the proposed annexation severely; but the beat speech in the whole debate was that of Sir Wiilred Lawson, the teetotal baronet, who reminded the house that Germany and America had both declined this | “great boon of annexation,” and recommended | that the Methodists and the cannibals should be | left to fight the matter out among themselves. THE BASE BALL PLAYERS | from Boston and Philadelphia who have recently arrived in England made tneir first appearance 1n London at Lord’s ground on Monday jast, when | eighteen of them engaged twelve of the Maryle- | bone Club at cricket. The Marylebone Club went | in first and remained tn during the day; but after luncheon, in the period usually devoted to rest, the Americans gave a specimen of their national game of base bull for the amusement of the visit- | ors, Their wonderful agility, skili and precision | were much admired, but in this display they | greatly fatigued themselves, so that when they returned to cricket they were somewhat blown, and their fielding was not so good as it tad pre- | viously been, ‘The cricket macth was finished yes- | terday in the miust of a never ceasing downpour | of rain, the result being that the Americans hada | Majority of tworuns. London is empty now, as you know, and the ground was not well atteuded, but Lheard several oid cricketers say that the fielding was as good as they had ever witnessed, and they seemed much surprised at the style of the batting, on which, as it appears, the base ball players do not pride themselves. Several more matches have been arranged beiore the Americans | Sail for home on the 20th, MR. ALBERT GRANT having been unseated for Kidderminster, as ri | ported in my last, has been succeeded by Sir W. lam Fraser, a Scotch baronet, whose muddy com- plexion has caused lim to be likened to bad flan- nei. Itits supposed that ona vacancy Mr. Grant Will contest one of the metropolitan borougns, anc that mis git of Leicester square to Londoners had something to do With tuattntention. Apropos of that gift here is the latest epigram on the gub- | jec What, flowers in Leicester square! These flowers of rant i | i | nation’s praise, CB OF BXAMINER OF PLays, j the duties of which are tc read every new play, all of which before preduction must be ieft at the Lord Cifimberlain’s office in order that any polit cai Or iinmoral allusion may be excised, has been for many years held by an old gentleman named Doune. Tue Lord Chamberlain’s decisions as ex. | | pounded by Mr. Doune, have recently been most unsatisfactory. While ballet girls have been or- | | dered to lengthen their skirts and actors | have been precluded from “making up” as | modern statesmen, the French companies , have been forbidden to produce some of the most | | noted pieces of their répertoire on the ground of the barm which would accrue to the virtuous British nation from such representations. A storm of controversy arose, in the course of which tt was shown that Mr. Doune was clearly unfitted for his post, ana he was advised to send in his | resignation, wiich he dtd. The salary attaching to the office te £500 a year, but there ts a fee , Of two guineas on each play read, 80 that the | emoluments mount up to something like £1,000 ayear, There were many candidates for the office, | among them Mr. Tom lor and Dr. Marston, whe dramatists; Mr. Oxentord, the dramatic critic of the Times; Mr, Clement Scott, the dramatic critic | | of the Datly Telegraph; Mr. Theodore Martin, | the well known translator of Horace and Goethe, and one of the writers of Ban Gauitier’s ballads, | The Queen's choice, however, has fallen upon none of these gentlemen, but upon Mr. KB FP. S. Pigott, a journalist, well known in society, who, | | twenty-five years ago, founded and ed- | ited the Leader newspaper, which was | at that time the organ of George Henry Lewes, Thornton Hunt, Rdward M. Whitty and others, while for the last few years he has been one of the principal leader writers of the Daily | Neirs, Mr. Pigovi is @ man of education and ex- cellent taste; he bas been for years the intimate friend of Regnier, the renowned comedian of the ThéAtre Frangals, and ig well acquainted with our leading Bnglish actors, A better man comid not possibly have been selected, and we are all looking forward to the improvements which wil) be el- fected under his régime, REMOVAL OF TEMPLE BAR. An object which must be familiar to al Amert- | can visitors to London—Temple Bar—which has long been in 4 dangerous state, has recently shown such signs of speedily coming down with & run that it has had to be shored up, and will, doubt. | | beer into his room | ig no bar to the appellants proceeding. ; has met with. | lor @ statement whicn I have seen in some Amer less, witnin a few weeks be removed. It was but” by Sir Christopher Wren in the year 1672, and hag seen many royai pageants and processions pass beneath {t, Originally tt bore at ite top set of spikes, on which tt was the custom to place the decapitated heads of rebels, and the anecdote of Jonnson and Goldsmith passing beneath the bare riers, and the waggish retort which ¢h¢ younger doctor made to the elder t& now historical. The ‘ast grand procession which passed through its portals was on the occ sion of the Prince of Wales going to St. Paul’s Cathedral to retur@ thanks for his restoration health. The large window in the centre of the Bar Overlooking the roadway is that of a chamber im which the bankers, Messrs, Childs, whose house, No. 1 Fleet street, immediately adjoins the Bar, have been in the habit of keeping tneir ledgers and journals fora period extending over two hundreé years, Itis worthy of note that Dickens has de- scribed this bank under the name of “Messrs. Tel son's,” in “The Tale of Two Cities.” THE VICEROY OF INDIA TO RESIGN. Apropos of bankers, {tis understood that Lord Northbrook will resign the Viceroyship of India as soon as the famine operations are concluded; not as has been suggested, tn consequence of annoy- ance at any of the strictures whicn have been passed upon bim by the Indian and English press, but in order to take his position as the chief of the great house of Baring Brothers, now vacant by the death of his uncie. PROCEEDINGS OP ROYALTIES, The Isle of Wight ts just now very full of great personages. The Crown Prince and Princess ot Prussia have been there for some time, and last week the Empress of Austria arrived. Het Majesty is located in a very queer gimcrack. build- ing, situated immediately out’ of Ventnor and called Steephill Gastle, a cockney castellated edt fice, with sham battlements and @ dry moat Queen Victoria is at Osborne just now, with the Prince and Princess of Wules as her guests. In about ten days time the Prince will go inte Devonshire on a visit to Colone) Luttrell, at Dun- ster Castle, with the ooject of hunting the wud red deer on Exmoor, the only specimens of the kind in England. These deer are remarkably strong and fierce, and the Prince wil find that they afford him rather different sport than he has im cantering after the tame animal which ts brought in @ cart to the meet and is then chased by the Queen’e staghounds. Afterward the Prince and Princess will visit Sir Ivor and Lady Cornelia Guest (she was the daughter or the Duke of Marlborough) at Canford Manor, and later on wil! go to their High- land seat of Abergeldie. By the way, the accident to Prince Leopold’s knee has proved to be more serious than was expected—so serious that he will be unabie to return to Oxford next term. de has always been very weakly and in his youth had to have his limbs supported by trons; bat ne 1s said to have the sweetest and most amiable dis- position tn the world. " CORPORAL PUNISHMENT fs, I belleve, unknown in American schools, where its place ls taken by ‘“‘morai suasion,” and, all de- grading as it 1s, one had hoped that it had died | out in England, where at one time it was very prevalent. Such, however, appears not Lo be the fact, a8 a case has been brought to light in which the head master of Shrewsbury, one of our most renowned public schools, recently adminis tered eighty-five strokes of the birch ww @ pupil who had surreptitiously introduced after frequent warnings, Tus discovery has raised a great controversy im the newspapers, and some have endeavored to show that the number of strokes was excessive, ‘The cuts themselves were “mere flea bites,” The govermug body bag exonerated the headmaster from the charge of cruelty, but there is some notion that the force of public opinion will compe hum to resign his post. In the days oi the last generation it was thought impossible to govern boys without flagellation, and at Eton, Harrow, Westminster and Charterhouse the birch was wicided without mercy, The practice still exists, but in @ much milder form. THE CELESRaTBD MORDAUNT DIVORCE CASB is once again beiore the public, it having been de cided that the (aileged) junacy of the respondemt So Sir Charlies Mordauut applies to be divorced trom bis | wile on the ground of her adultery with Viscount Cole, who, it way be remembered, was married to the great heiress, Miss Baird, in 1869, just alter the jormer futile trial of the case took place. Aiso, before our law courts, is an appeal from MR, CHARLES READE | for an injunction to prevent Mr. French, an Amert- can, who is the owner Of a2 large dramatic publish- ing concern in the Strand, from selling copies of certain of bis plays, COLONEL FORNRY AND THE CENTENNIAL, Cotonel J. W. Forney, of the Philadelphia Press, who is staying at the Langham Hotel, nas, since his arrival 10 this country, received bis appoine ment as & commissioner for the great Exhibition to be held tn Philadelphia in 1876, and is putting himseif into communication with the heads of | various Lundon firms to induce them to be con- tributors. I understand that the Colonel is well | pleased with his success and with the courtesy he There is not the smailest ground cab papers to the effect that annoyance was felt in Engiand because Independence Day had, it was stated, been selected for the opening. There is no feeling of this kind among decent Snglishmen, who delight tn looking on America as the child of the Oid Country, and are proud of ber progress, MR, H. M, STANLEY has arrived at the Langham, and ts making prep- arations for his forthcoming African expedition, Numerous applications by young Englishmen, Ger- mans and others, anxious to share in the glory of the HERALD enterprise uave been made during the last few weeks, THEATRICALS. Mr. Buckstone took his benefiton Monday, the jast night of the Haymarket season, and in his farewell speech announced the proximate retarn of Mr. Sothern, who, he said, had’ told him that | the Americans were far more generous than Eng- lishmen to theatrical artists. A new play by Mr. Buchanan, cailed “A Madcap Prince,” was pro- duced on the occasion. It is but a weak work, poorin plot and without any striking dialogue; butit passed muster. More o! tt when it ia re< produced next season, ‘ MACMAHON AT A MARRIAGE, {From Galignani’s Messenger, July 51.) The religious marriage of Mile. Aline d’Harcourt with Baron Bertrand ce Langadorff, Aide-de-Camp of Marsha! de MacMahon, was celebrated yester- cay morning, frst in the Church of St. Clotilde and afterwards at the British Embassy, the bride being of the Protestant persuasion, The Marshal, who was one of the bridegroom's witnesses, ar rived in Parts about ten o’ciock with Mme. de Mac- Mahon. Among the other persons were the Duke Decuzes and most of the Ministers, severa! mem. bers of the Diplomatic body and» gumber of Deputies, SMUGGLERS FRUSTRATED, On the arrival of the steamship City o: New York, from Havana, opposite Quarantine, on Sav urday morning last, at oue o'clock, Special Custom House Officers Nethercott anc O'Netl, who were om duty {n a smail rowboat for the purpose of watch- tng the vessel, to prevent any attempt by those on board being made to smuggle cigars ashore, noticed a boat, Manned by two men, suddenly jeave the vessel and dart out into the channel, heading for New York, Thinking this somewhat suspicious the Officers hatled the boat and ordered the men to lay to. Instead of obey. ing this command the two men de gap pulling av their oars with redoublea vigor, Seeing this chase was made by the officers and an exciting race was’ the result. The chase was overhauled, however, of Bedloe’s Island and the men in the boat arrestea., They were sound to ve two North River boatmen, but deciined to giv. their names. In the boat were jound avout #500 cigars, valued at $1,200, The captives were taken to the Barge Office, but there the authorities re= fused to take any Steps looking to holding them for examination beiore ® United States Commia~ sioner, they were therefore aliowed to depart. ‘Their boat and the cigars, however, were cont cated, ‘This was rather disheartening to ¢) officers alter the trouble they had been at to make the capture, but they Were obliged to accent situation,